


When We Were Lost

by MiniNephthys



Series: Lark's Tongues In Aspic [1]
Category: JoJo no Kimyouna Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diavolo prepares for the stupid comment that always comes when anyone finds out what his name is, but all Doppio does is smile again and return the card.  It is exactly the second thing Diavolo is somewhat grateful to him for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Were Lost

Today is grocery day.

Diavolo does not go out of his way to talk to people. He just doesn't enjoy it and doesn't see why everyone else places such great importance on it. He has the advantage of working from home and avoiding a great deal of social interaction, but there are some matters that you have to leave your house for, and food is one of them.

Barring unusual circumstances, Diavolo leaves his house around noon each Thursday, travels to the nearest grocery store, and picks up everything he expects to need for the week. His grocery list is largely unchanged from week to week, and he efficiently finds everything he needs where it was the last week, buys it without worrying about how much he's spending, and goes home.

The hitch in that plan today is that the store has _remodeled_.

Diavolo stares at the signs in the aisles with a growing sense of frustration. Nothing is where it should be and he's going to have to waste so much time looking for the same items he always buys. _Time_ is one of the few things precious to him, along with his privacy.

Who decided to upset his routine like this?

"Um," says a small voice, startling him. "I'm sorry, but could you maybe move out of the aisle? You're blocking the way..."

Diavolo turns to look at a teenager with an empty cart. The boy is fidgeting as he speaks, obviously not one to raise a fuss. He's a good deal shorter than Diavolo and isn't looking up all the way to meet his stare.

Why is Diavolo staring so long in the first place? There's nothing unusual about him.

He pushes his cart out of the way to let him pass. "I'm not used to the reorganization of the store." That's as close as he can come to apologizing.

The stranger lights up a little. "Oh! I know exactly where everything is, I can help you look! If you want, I mean."

That's a strange thing to offer someone you bumped into randomly at the store. "Do you?"

He nods. "I work here, I don't have a shift today but I know the layout really well. I-" Diavolo thrusts his grocery list at him without a word, and the boy blinks and takes it from his hand. "Right, well, the closest is the grains and pastries..."

He leads Diavolo through the entirety of his list, leaving his own cart behind. It's not a short list, and Diavolo is somewhat grateful for the time he's saved him.

"And that should be everything!" the teenager says proudly. "If you ever need help when I'm on a shift, I'd be happy to help. My name's Doppio. You'll probably be able to tell by the nametag, eheh..."

"I only come here Thursdays." Diavolo doesn't see reason to raise his strange hopes of being helpful as he takes back his grocery list. "So we won't meet again."

The boy seems to deflate. "Well... it was nice meeting you anyway."

Diavolo nods in acknowledgement and goes to check out.

He doesn't think about Doppio for the rest of the week. It's only at the end of his shopping trip on Thursday that he comes to mind again, and that is because Doppio is the cashier.

"Oh! I wondered if I'd meet you today." Doppio has a bright and genuine smile not commonly seen on people who deal with customers all day. "Lucky me! How are you?"

Diavolo makes a noncommittal sound as Doppio starts checking his items. "You didn't have a shift last week."

"The schedules changed right after that. Isn't that funny? Now I take Thursdays." Doppio shrugs. "It's a mystery of life, how these things happen. Hey, I never got your name?"

"You're about to see it on my credit card." Carrying large sums of cash was too risky, even if Diavolo might have preferred to go anonymous. "I don't see why it makes a difference whether you hear it from me or not."

"I'll feel like a stalker if I just read it off your credit card..." Still, Doppio reads it under his breath. "Diavolo, huh..."

Diavolo prepares for the stupid comment that always comes when anyone finds out what his name is, but all Doppio does is smile again and return the card. It is exactly the second thing Diavolo is somewhat grateful to him for.

"Have a good day!" Doppio says as Diavolo picks up his bags. He nods in acknowledgement that he at least heard the sentiment.

Really, what he should do is pick a different grocery day. Thursday had no particular benefits for him. Routine is hard to shake, especially for so small a reason as the reoccurring presence of a grocery store employee.

Doppio becomes almost a part of that routine. He'll spot him in the aisles and stop to greet him, or chat, rather one-sidedly, at the cash register. Despite working in the service industry, which Diavolo has horrific memories of, he always seems to be smiling, at least while he's in Diavolo's presence.

Human contact has never been something Diavolo missed. That hasn't changed, but... now that he's used to it, he doesn't mind seeing this particular smiling face. He likes to think that Doppio is especially happy to see him, more than anyone else. He could be right.

"Doppio," he says, cutting off Doppio's talk about the local zoo. "Why haven't you invited me out yet?"

Doppio shuts and opens his mouth a few times.

"You're meant to be doing work now, not chatting with the customers. If you want to talk to me, do it on your own time."

Doppio swallows before speaking hoarsely. "...Would you go for coffee sometime? With me?"

"Yes. Tomorrow at nine. Caffè Pascucci. If you're late I won't make the offer again." Diavolo crosses an item off his grocery list and pushes his cart away without looking back.

On the arranged, or unilaterally decided, day, Diavolo arrives at the coffeehouse ten minutes to nine and finds that Doppio is waiting for him, fidgeting and playing around with his cell phone before he sees him. "You actually came?" Doppio asks, like he still can't believe it despite him clearly being physically present.

Diavolo raises an eyebrow as he goes to join him at the bar. "You thought I wouldn't?"

"You could've been messing with me. Lots of people mess with me." Doppio smiles at that, more wry than Diavolo's used to seeing him. "But just in case you weren't, I've been here for... I think twenty minutes now. I didn't want to risk being late for you."

Diavolo makes a mental note that Doppio is reliable, at least in this area. "After you switched your schedule around to see me, I'd be disappointed if you were so easily scared off when I made a move."

Doppio turns a light shade of pink. "I-I know it sounds weird to do that! But... Do you ever feel like you've met somebody before? Like maybe you went to school with them, or lived on the same street as them, and you just forgot? I had that kind of feeling..."

"You shouldn't use that kind of line on a first date." Diavolo chuckles as Doppio flushes even more. "As for the question... I don't talk to people enough to have that reaction to anyone."

But Doppio had been unusual to him even before they'd spoken properly. Something about him had taken him completely off his guard. Could it really be they'd met before? Maybe only in passing, before Diavolo had isolated himself so much; but Doppio would've been much younger then...

"Diavolo?" Doppio waves a hand in front of him. "Hellooo, Diavolo? I asked what kind of coffee you wanted?"

Diavolo puts it out of his mind for the moment and focuses on the here and now, which is inside a coffeehouse on what he can't deny is a date with someone who endears himself more to him every time he opens his mouth.

It's nice. Enjoyable even. He isn't going to become a social butterfly any time soon, but just seeing one person every now and again, he wouldn't mind. At least, if it's this one particular person.

The look on Doppio's face when Diavolo says "we should do this again soon" could cause cavities.

Dating is not as difficult as it has been in the past for Diavolo. Doppio respects his need to set his own schedule and is fairly willing to go along with what Diavolo decides, though he has ideas of his own if Diavolo should ask. He talks about his personal life when it comes up and only then, and doesn't pry into Diavolo's private affairs, which are most of his affairs. He squeaks in the most adorable way when he's kissed unexpectedly.

About when Diavolo starts getting used to thinking of himself as having a boyfriend is when the nightmares start.

He doesn't remember all of them clearly. Some of them, he only wakes from in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep. Others he remembers in excruciating detail: in these, he dies and dies and dies, over and over in every way possible, with relief only brought by waking up, never by actually staying dead.

Diavolo buys the largest container of sleeping pills he can find and takes one almost every night. It sometimes works.

"You look tired." Doppio leans across the table at the restaurant they're eating at. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

Diavolo considers lying. It takes him long enough to consider that it would be pointless anyway. "No."

"That's what I thought. Is something eating at you?" Doppio asks. "You know, I'm not very good at dealing with problems, but if there's anything I can do..."

"It's nothing. Only some bad dreams." Diavolo keeps his voice flat.

"I used to get some of those. My mother told me that the best way to get rid of them was to talk to somebody... 'course, 'somebody' then was my stuffed frog. But you can call me anytime you need to. Even if it's two in the morning," says Doppio. "If it's you, I don't mind."

Diavolo would normally dismiss this idea, but the nightmares have become so intense that the next time he wakes in a cold sweat, he finds himself staring at the phone by his bedside. He curses under his breath, then dials Doppio's number.

It rings twice before Doppio picks up. "Mmm... Morning, Diavolo." He yawns. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Anything." Anything that isn't him being killed, he'll take. If he has to sound vulnerable to anyone, it should be to this person.

"Alright." Doppio takes only a moment to think. "So, the other day I was in a taxi and this guy tried to change the fare on me..."

This, too, becomes a part of his routine. The nightmares don't end, but just the sound of Doppio's voice is enough to help calm Diavolo down. Sometimes they'll talk for an hour, or sometimes Doppio will just ramble on about something until Diavolo falls back asleep, this time without dreams. Doppio's number is quickly assigned to his speed dial.

One night Doppio answers the phone with, "Boss?"

Diavolo frowns. "No, it's me."

"That's what I thought I said. What'd I say?" Doppio asks.

"You said 'boss'," Diavolo says. "Which, if you want to start calling me that in intimate moments, I don't mind..."

He can practically hear Doppio blush. They still haven't gotten to that point, but that doesn't mean Diavolo can't tease him about it. "N-no way! I don't know why I said that, it's two in the morning, I'm not in my right mind. Just ignore that!"

"If you insist."

It's not the last time he hears 'boss' out of him while they're on the phone, but every time Doppio swears it was an accident. Diavolo finds himself easily accustomed to that, too. In fact, everything about being with Doppio is far easier for him than dealing with any other human being.

The first time Doppio spends the night at Diavolo's house, he's nervous and obviously attempting not to touch or damage anything. Diavolo knows his house is expensively-decorated: he has no dependents and makes an excellent salary, so he splurges on the setting he's in almost all the time. Still. "I'm not going to bite your head off even if you break a vase," he says.

Doppio jolts. "I didn't realize when you said your house was nice that you meant... _this_ nice."

Diavolo shrugs. "It's not important. Come this way."

Diavolo's bedroom is as luxurious as the rest of his home. Doppio feels how soft the blankets are and then dives headfirst onto the middle of the bed.

"Make yourself at home." Diavolo can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he watches Doppio snuggle up with a pillow. "What's mine is yours."

"Oh!" Doppio comes to his senses and rolls over to the side of the bed. "Sorry, there's room now."

Diavolo sits beside him and leans down to brush some of his hair away from his face. "My Doppio," he says.

"Yours?" Doppio asks, looking up at him. "Am I-"

"Mine," he repeats, leaning further down.

They don't say anything for a long time after that. It's easiest that way.


End file.
